An Acrostic, W. L. G. Poem by Benjamin Cutler Clark

We have seen thee, years ago,
In our early manhood days,
Lighting up a world below,
Like a comet in full blaze.
Into Slav'ry's dark abode
All the fire of truth was sent;
Many trembl'd at the word,

Like an aspen tree when bent.
Onward—is thy motto still,
Young and old have follow'd thee,
Ev'n almost against their will,
Driv'n to plead for liberty.

Go on pleading for the dumb,
Although held forth as a knave;
Reckless thou art call'd by some,
Rob'd in truth, be valiant—brave.
If thou can'st not live to see
Slav'ry from this nation driv'n,
Oh! may'st thou rewarded be,
Not on earth, but high in heav'n.